


Poetry Lessons

by Efflorescent



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Bi!Dean, First Times, Handy J, Love Confessions, M/M, Poor Sam, Teenchesters, in the closet, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 19:18:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9339413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Efflorescent/pseuds/Efflorescent
Summary: In which Dean is getting tutored during his poetry unit by an upperclassman and friend and Sam is stuck learning things about his big brother he didn't know and definitely didn't want to see.





	

Sam is eleven years old and he can’t find his stupid sweatshirt. He’s used to everything being in one room, but Dad randomly decided to rent a trailer and get an honest job for w little while. They have their own room separate from their father’s and now Sam keeps losing things. Dean said he was going to get Darren from his house and bring him back here to study, which is apparently a thing Dean worries about now. Sam didn’t really care. Darren is nice. He doesn’t treat Sam like an idiot, makes Dean laugh, and even gets Dean to take school seriously and show up on time every day. He’s a junior, but he doesn’t act like Dean is an annoying freshman at all. Sam has been in the room when they study, but it’s boring and he’d rather go next door to his friend Isaac’s house. Which is where he’d said he would be before Dean came back. But he can’t find his stupid sweatshirt and it’s too cold out. He has looked in the small pile under his bed, under Dean’s bed, and everywhere in the drawers, so Dean must have put it up in the closet for some reason. He opens the accordion closet and walks inside, his clothes all on the the floor with Dean’s neatly hung. He’s so tired of bending over that he just plops to his knees and starts sifting through the pile on the floor. He’s kneeled on one of Dean’s favorite shirts that must have fallen off its respective hanger and when he yanks it from under his knee, he hears an audible rip. Crap crap crap crap crap. Dean’s going to kill him. Almost as if on cue, Sam hears the front door open and twin footsteps racing and laughing through the trailer. He hears Dean yell his name to see if he’s home and Sam acts on pure instinct, pulling the accordion closet closed by its slats and staying as quiet as possible.

Dean and Darren stomp into the room laughing loudly. Dean falls backwards onto his full mattress and Darren lightly kicks his legs so Dean can scoot enough for Darren to take a seat.

“How the hell are you so fast?” Darren says with awe in his voice, his dark skin lightly glistening with sweat.

“I’m just awesome like that.” Dean grunts a bit as he sits up, his body facing the closet Sam is currently hiding in. Sam flinches even though he’s fairly sure Dean can’t see him.

“Yeah but not awesome enough to join the track team with me. Man we’d kill the game.” Darren’s bright white teeth show as he smiles hard at Sam’s brother.

“Yeah yeah yeah. Let’s get this poetry thing on the road, Speedy Gonzalez.” Dean bends underneath his bed and pulls his worn backpack from underneath. He pulls out an awkwardly dense book that Sam has seen them study from for the better part of two weeks and his trapper-keeper of loose-leaf paper. Dean breezily flips to a dog-eared page in the book and looks to Darren who is connected to him at the shoulder. He nods at Dean.

“Read aloud. It helps to understand.” He says with encouragement. Dean looks back down at the book and reads aloud.

“Come live with me and be my love,  
And we will all the pleasures prove,   
That Valleys, groves, hills, and fields,  
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.

And we will sit upon the Rocks,  
Seeing the Shepherds feed their flocks,  
By shallow Rivers whose falls  
Melo…” Dean stumbles for a second, unsure of the pronunciation. “Melodious?” he asks, turning towards Darren who nods with a fond smile.  
“Melodious bids sing Madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of Roses  
And a thousand fragrant posies,  
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle  
Embroidered all with leaves of Myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool  
Which from our pretty Lambs we pull;  
Fair lined slippers for the cold,   
With buckets of the purest gold;

A belt of straw and Ivy buds,  
With coral clasps and Amber studs:  
And if these pleasures may thee move,  
Come live with me, and be my love.

The Shepherd’s Swains shall dance and sing  
For thy delight each May-morning:  
If these delight thy mind may move,  
Then live with me, and be my love.”

“Ok, well done.” Darren smiles warmly at Dean, and if Sam isn’t mistaken, there’s a slight flush to Dean’s cheeks when he looks at him, but that probably has to do with the whole reading poetry aloud thing. “Now tell me some of the themes.”

“Uh.. well, love for one?” Darren nods, so Dean continues. “It’s kinda hard to tell if he actually loves who he’s talking to, though. I mean, he talks like he’s in love, but it sounds more like romantic nonsense and he’s trying to, like, woo this person.” Dean looks to Darren who smiles widely and fondly.

“Well put. Write that down since it’s kind of the first question.” Sam watches Darren watch Dean and the warmth in the teen’s dark brown eyes and and small smile still playing on his lips throws Sam for a loop. Darren seems to scoot impossibly closer to Dean once he’s finished writing and Sam can see the smooth dark skin of Darren’s arm winded across Dean’s back, his left hand resting at Dean’s left hip, encasing his brother as he leans across his front to point to the book. Sam watches his brother swallow nervously, sitting up straighter, tracking Darren’s every movement, the flush in his cheeks deepening, highlighting his freckles. Neither of them is used to people outside of the family invading their personal space, so Sam can’t imagine how uncomfortable his big brother must be. Darren turns his head from facing the book to facing Dean again, his face inches from Dean’s right cheek. “Any other themes you can find?” Darren’s eyes pan down Dean’s face, but he doesn’t move back even when Dean seems to cock his head a little in Darren’s direction and his eyelashes flutter nervously.

“Man and nature.” Dean starts and doesn’t need Darren’s encouragement before licking his lips and continuing ahead. “He can’t offer this person anything of value, but nature is infinite and he can promise all of nature’s harmony and endlessness if he has to. He uses the imagery of nature to hide what he lacks. And when he starts running out of things to promise this person, he starts offering more off the wall things to get them to stay with him. Even the rhyming kind of loses its harmony in the last couple stanzas, but… but he’s still trying.” Dean looks up at Darren again who remains silent. Sam is mildly stunned at Dean’s words, not really knowing much about poetry, but still understanding that it was pretty astute of his big brother.

“Go ahead and write that down.” Darren nearly whispers against Dean’s cheek. Dean briefly looks from Darren’s charcoal eyes to his full lips before slowly turning his head to write down what he’d just said. Just as Dean is turning, Darren’s right arm, which is still across Dean’s lap, raises to Dean’s face and he guides Sam’s older brother into a gentle kiss that shocks Sam to his core. What surprises Sam even more is the way Dean just relaxes into the kiss right away, as though he’s relieved to finally be connected. The book and trapper-keeper slide off of Dean’s lap as Dean turns his body more towards Darren, not breaking contact. Sam has to slap his hand over his mouth to keep from gasping at Dean’s pleased sigh when Darren’s hands switch roles, bringing his left up behind Dean’s neck and trailing his right hand down Dean’s chest. Darren slowly breaks away from the kiss, pulling only a few centimeters from Dean, still finding contact through their foreheads.

“Your heart is pounding really fast.” Darren remarks, lightly stroking Dean’s chest. Dean looks so nervous when he looks down and it’s an expression Sam is unfamiliar with seeing on his monster-hunting big brother. Darren’s hand trails further down Dean’s body, resting on the inside of his thigh and gently stroking back and forth. Sam watches in strange fascination as his brother nervously takes in a sharp breath and his visibly shaking hands reach up to hold on to the front of Darren’s shirt. Sam has seen his brother do this before head-butting someone, but this has a completely different air to it. Sam watches his big brother pull Darren in for another kiss, hands gripping impossibly tighter into the fabric of the larger boy’s shirt. Dean pulls away, lips slightly puffy.

“I… I… I w-w” Dean stammers and it’s a nervous tick that Sam hasn’t seen Dean have in front of anyone but their father.

“Shhhh. Shhh. It’s okay. I understand if you’re still nervous. If you’re not ready, then I can wait.” And Sam is blown away by that wording. ‘Still’? As in this isn’t the first time Dean has… made out with Darren? Sam feels lost. Honestly he wants to crawl further into the closet and hide under his small pile of clothes because he’s getting a weird feeling like this is going somewhere he definitely doesn’t want to be witness to. But somehow this nervous, smitten version of his brother is so amazing to witness. This is the same older brother who licked his fingers and stuck it in Sam’s unfinished bowl of cereal because he had been taking too long to eat and head to school. Sam is torn from wanting to shield his eyes and ears and to watch it all unfold. Sam begins to wonder how long Dean has been… kissing boys. Or liked boys. Does he still like girls? Has he been pretending to like girls? He says a lot of obscene things about girls in his school and last summer Sam had caught him with his hand up Trina Langworthy’s blouse, so what did that mean? Sam’s thoughts get cut off when he hears Dean’s stammered reply.

“No. I… I want to. I want it.” He says his final sentence with more conviction. Sam watches through the slats as his big brother looks at Darren with all the nervous courage he can muster. Darren lowers his head to Dean’s ear where Sam can’t see and speaks soothingly.

“Ok. We don’t have to go far, but I want to make you feel good.” He must do something to Dean’s ear that Sam can’t see because Dean shudders a little and cranes that side of his head closer to Darren. Sam watches his brother bite down on his lip, something he does when he wants to say something but can’t. When Darren’s hand on Dean’s jean-clad thigh begins to slowly move between his legs, Dean audibly gasps and he starts squirming his legs restlessly, but doesn’t attempt to move away at all.

“Is this okay, Dean?” Darren’s voice sounds so much deeper than usual. He pulls away from Dean’s ear to look him in the eye. Dean nods after a few heartbeats and Darren gives him another pleased smile. “If it becomes too much, just let me know and I’ll stop, okay?” He kisses Dean tenderly on the mouth once when he sees him nod. Sam knows a little bit about what’s happening. He’s not completely innocent. But some part of him thought that kissing would be the line in the sand, but he’s wrong. He watches mouth agape as Darren unfasten the button on Dean’s jeans. He stops there and looks to Dean who looks from his opened pants back up to Darren before nodding his consent. Darren’s deep umber skin contrasts so strongly against Dean’s pale freckled stomach as Darren lightly traces a path from Dean’s belly button to inside his boxers.

The gasp and groan that immediately bubble from Dean’s throat as he simultaneously spreads his legs wider and hides his face in the crevice of Darren’s neck is enough of a cue for Sam to close his eyes and cover his ears. Kissing is one thing, but the whole Trina thing was traumatizing enough. He didn’t need or want to see this part. No thanks. Curiosity and amazement gone. But his hands can only cover so much and Dean and Darren think they’re alone. Short of humming to himself and giving himself away, there’s nothing else to mask the sounds coming from the room beyond his own hands, which aren’t quite getting the job done. He hears a moan burst from Dean’s throat and closes his eyes tighter.

“You’re so beautiful, Dean.” Sam can still hear Darren’s breathy, words despite the muffling his hands are doing. “So smart and beautiful.” He says it so tenderly that Sam isn’t sure if the moan coming from Dean is a response to the words or what Darren is doing to him.

“D-Darren.” Dean groans and the n is drawn out with hints of desperation in the tone. “Ah! Ohh!” Sam has to listen as Dean becomes a mess, only capable of speaking in varying interjections of “ah” “oh” and “oh god”. The longer it goes on, the longer his interjections become, oh’s being rolled out like a mat down a hallway. Sam tries hard to ignore how his brother’s breaths are coming out in staccatos, chopping the air in rapid succession until he gets enough air to let out a drawn out moan. “Darren oh god. It feels so good.” Dean whimpers, his voice a pitch higher than usual. Darren must push Dean onto his back because Sam hears the rebound of springs from the mattress and Dean’s grunt. He quickly peeks to see if they’re done and sees that Dean is indeed on his back now, his arms wound around Darren’s shoulders and neck, pulling him in close as Darren appears to be sucking and nibbling at his neck all the while watching what Darren is doing to him down below. Darren is balancing on his left arm and it’s all that’s keeping him from letting his full weight fall onto Dean. He’s got his right leg in between Dean’s legs to and appears to be… grinding against Dean’s hip. Dean’s jeans have somehow made it down to his ankles and he kicks them off haphazardly with Darren’s hand still moving smoothly in his boxers and his legs are spread even wider without the restriction. 

Sam wishes desperately that he hadn’t opened his eyes back up as Dean begins to unconsciously swirl and lift his hips into Darren’s hand, moaning between pursed lips and choking on gasps when the combination of Darren’s mouth and hand feels particularly good. He begins to shut his eyes again before Dean speaks in a tone of voice so desperate that Sam is shocked into looking again.

“I think – ah! Darren I t-think I’m gonna – oh god!” Dean throws his head back into his pillow, hips writhing even faster as Darren seems to pick up his pace. He desperately clutches on to Darren, fingers digging into this shoulders as his moans get breathier and higher pitched.

“I’ve got you, Dean. Oohh. It’s okay.” Darren’s own voice is raw and shaken. 

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Dean’s back arches off the bed and he white-knuckles Darren’s shirt as his legs and hips seem to spasm in shock, Dean is still swirling his hips in tandem with Darren’s slowed stroked. It seems to take them a little under a 30 seconds to stop completely as Dean sags bonelessly into the bed, legs still twitching and letting out small groans as Darren’s hand moves ever so slightly until it completely halts. Dean’s chest is heaving for breath and Darren is staring at him wonderingly for a few moments before his lips descend onto Dean’s again. His hand doesn’t leave Dean’s boxers, but merely slides to Dean’s left hip, pulling him so that his left leg is hooked over Darren’s right leg but he is still mostly on his back. Dean lets him manipulate his body, never breaking the kiss and seeming to get more desperate after Darren moves him. They continue to kiss until one of them loses the breath and has to pull away.  
“Was that okay?” Darren asks, placing ginger kisses on Dean’s throat.

“Yeah. That was more than okay. That was pretty amazing.” Dean’s voice is raspy like he’s lost his voice. He goes bright red as he looks down at their conjoined hips. “Umm… did you…?” Dean trails off, not knowing how to finish his sentence.

“Oh trust me. I did.” Darren chuckles and pulls Dean closer before continuing to kiss him with full lips. They keep at this for a long while, occasionally shifting position while Sam is still trapped in the closet (ha ha) for another ten more minutes before Dean’s alarm on the bedside table goes off.

“Shit. My dad is getting off work. He’s gonna be home in, like, 15 minutes.” Darren and Dean shoot out of bed, picking up the discarded book and trapper-keeper on the floor and tossing it back on the Dean’s bed. Dean bends over to grab his jeans and makes an odd face. “I gotta change. I can’t wear these they’re um…” His cheeks flush again as he looks at Darren who gives him a shy but proud smile. Dean runs over to the dresser and pulls out a new pair of jeans and boxers. “I’m going to change into these really quick. I’ll be right back.” Dean quickly walks out of view to the hallway to get to the bathroom.

“What do you want me to do with these jeans, Dean?” Darren yells down the hallway.

“I dunno! Just… throw them in the closet!” Sam’s veins run cold as he feels the panic settle within him. He looks around for somewhere to hide in their cramped closet, but there’s nowhere and Darren is scooping up the jeans and walking straight towards him. Darren puts his hand on the handle and Sam knows he’s doomed.

“Hey, do you have-” Whatever Darren was about to ask gets cut off as he opens the closet door and is met with the wide desperate eyes of Dean’s kid brother. His jaw drops open and absolute stunned shock encompasses his dark features as they hold eye contrast. Despite his complexion, Sam can definitely see a slight pinkening make its way to his face the longer they stare at each other and the more Darren realizes how much Sam must have seen. Sam’s own face feels like it’s on fire. There is a dead silence in the room so strong that Sam’s ears begin to ring before Dean’s voice cuts through.

“What did you need?” Dean’s voice is impossibly closer and Sam can’t see the hallway but looks in that direction anyway and then back at Darren who is still shocked into muteness. Sam sees a flicker of a decision in the older boy’s eyes before Darren tosses the jeans to the opposite end of the closet Sam isn’t occupying and shuts its door resolutely. Sam is left blinking in confusion and mild terror.

“What were you saying?” Dean walks back into the room clad in new jeans. Darren’s legs block his view of his brother as he stands directly in front of the closet.

“Umm… I may or may not need new boxers.” Darren offers and Dean chuckles warmly before going back over to the dresser and pulling out an extra pair. He walks them over to Darren and stands in front of him. “Here you go.” Dean whispers against Darren’s lips before standing a bit on his tip toes to deliver a small kiss.

“I’ll change real quick then we can go hang in the living room until your dad comes.” Darren moves out of Sam’s line of sight and towards the hallway bathroom. 

“What, no more poetry?” Dean’s shyness is gone and back is his cocky bravado. Darren must make a funny reaction because Dean throws his head back and laughs with his whole body. Sam hears Darren’s footsteps down the hallway as Dean calls after him. “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate!” Dean is still smiling brightly when Sam hears the bathroom door close. He plops down onto his bed and Sam watches as his rough and tough big brother tenderly brings his fingers to his lips, gently smiling all the while. He lets out a satisfied sigh that morphs into a huge grin as he fist-pumps his success in what he thinks is privacy. He collects himself once he hears Darren open the bathroom door and tries to look calm and collected as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Dad is home less than 5 minutes after that and Sam uses the distraction to leave the closet, crawl through their bedroom window, round the house, and enter through the front door before their dad has finished taking his boots off.

“Heya, Sammy!” Dean says brightly and Sam can still see a spark of glee in his eyes from earlier. “How was Isaac’s?” Dean asks innocently. Sam pretends not to notice Darren’s eyes examining him with one part surprise and another part fear. If he thinks he’s going to confess to what he just witnessed, then he’s wrong because Sam sure as hell doesn’t want to remember this.

“It was fine. We watched a documentary about Pluto.” Sam lies smoothly.

“You would.” Dean snorts. He scans Sam and gets a concerned face. “Did you go out like that? Why didn’t you bring your sweatshirt or something?” Dean ponders. John looks at his youngest like he’s wondering that too.

“I couldn’t find it.” Sam replies honestly. He shifts to look at Darren who’s features are schooled into a mask of polite curiosity.

“I think I put it in the closet with your pile of clothes you refuse to hang up. Did you check there at all?” Dean tilts his head and Sam watches realization flash on Darren’s face, eyes widening as the pieces come together. Sam looks Darren purposefully in the eyes for a moment before casting his gaze back onto Dean and replying.

“No. No I did not.”

 

\-----

 

It has been years since Sam was subjected to that torture. Not two months later, they had to move again and Sam had to watch Dean heartbreakingly leave Darren behind. He didn’t smile for a while afterwards. Not a real smile anyway. That’s why when Sam sees the way Dean smiles at Cas when he thinks nobody is looking, Sam feels his heart lurch in hope. He never talked to Dean about what he saw that day. He never even implied having intimate knowledge about Dean’s sexuality because he wanted Dean to want to tell him. And if Dean wasn’t ready, then that was Sam’s fault for letting Dean doubt that he would support his big brother no matter what.

So on the day that Dean does tell him, Sam really doesn’t know how to tell Dean he is less than surprised that his big brother just confessed to being in love with Castiel. Now he doesn’t want to just outright say “well no duh” because that would just feel like a slap in the face of this monumental confession coming from Dean. Dean “No chick-flick moments” Winchester. Dean “emotional constipation” Winchester. It’s kind of a big deal, so Sam’s going to treat it like one and respect the amount of turmoil he just knows Dean had to have been going through in order to utter those words out loud to his only living family member. Hell, the only other person whose opinion he cares about. So, no. Sam doesn’t say “Well no duh” even if he wants to. He doesn’t bring up Darren, because what’s the point? And honestly the urge comes and goes because he is overtaken by relief and happiness on his brother’s behalf. The smile that reaches his face is absolutely genuine and the “I am so happy for you, Dean” that follows it is just as sincere as the tears prickling his eyes. Because Sam may have already known Dean’s ‘secret’ but he knows this confession is huge coming from his big brother. And he feels so happy that Dean can find love with someone who will cherish his older brother the way Dean cherishes anyone whom he comes to care about; wholeheartedly, the way Sam has sometimes neglected or taken advantage of in the past. The look of absolute relief breaks Sam’s heart in a major way. Dean’s eyes shimmer with glossed tears, not quite welling up, but there’s a sheen of wetness hinting his green irises. 

“You’re not… mad?” Dean’s head cranes downward at his clasped hands, almost in the picture of prayer and it’s not lost on Sam that when Dean is at his most anxious, his most scared, he turns to prayer for Castiel. It must be reflexive at this point.

“Of course I’m not mad, Dean. If anything…” Sam stops when Dean’s head snaps up, like he’s expecting some sort of rejection to follow those words. “If anything, I’m mad at myself for ever giving you the impression or second of doubt that you could trust that I would love you unconditionally. No matter who you love, no matter what you do, you’re my big brother, Dean. I made you doubt me. And for that, I’ve failed you as a brother.” He puts his hand up when he sees Dean open his mouth to defend him. “No, Dean. I did. There should have been no doubt in your mind that you could tell me something this big without worrying that I might be mad or reject you for it. And for that, I’m sorry. I am so sor-” he doesn’t get to finish his sentence before he’s being tackled into a hug by his older, but shorter brother. He accepts it eagerly, finding comfort in the embrace much like when he was a child in need of comfort and Dean had more than filled the role.  
They hold tight on the embrace for a little while before Dean is lightly shoving him back, ghost trails of tears streaking his cheeks. He smiles a big goofy smile, completely uncaring for once that he’d call this embarrassing later.

“Thanks, Sammy. I mean it.” And he does mean it. Sam can tell from his open and relaxed posture like he’s not carrying the weight of the world at this moment. They’re in comfortable silence for a moment before Sam’s curiosity gets the better of him.

“Can I ask, when did you know you were in love with Cas?” And the confession may have left too many raw nerves to hide Dean’s flinch, but he immediately relaxes and accepts their new normal. Typical Dean, adjusting fantastically to a new environment.

“I don’t know… well I do, but I… don’t?” Dean spectacularly explains. He looks at Sam for guidance he cannot give, but Sam just looks at him, waiting patiently for him to articulate what must be a difficult explanation. “It wasn’t like I just woke up one day and realized it, but it also was like that. It’s so hard to explain, but it was so damn gradual that it feels like it’s been since I met him, but I know that it can’t have been way back then. It’s like how you don’t notice when you get taller or lose weight because you’re always with yourself. You see yourself daily. But then you stand next to someone you haven’t seen for a while and suddenly you’re at eye level. It’s like this feeling has been with me for so long and I didn’t notice how big it got until it was at eye level…” Dean trails off, looking down, the tips of his ears flushed red. His words leave Sam a little stunned. 

“That was very… poetic of you, Dean.” Sam means it honestly and also to poke a little fun at his smitten brother. Dean shoves him hard in the arm.

“Oh shut up,” he laughs, blush now creeping up his neck and filling his cheeks.

“No seriously. Very William Shakespeare.” Sam smiles at the comfortable shift.

“Screw you. I’m a Von Goethe man. I practically ooze Faust-like qualities.” Dean waves a hand over himself in a perfect Vanna impression. Sam is silent for a moment, taking in what Dean has just said.

“What?” Dean says defensively like he does every time Sam accidentally makes him feel like he shouldn’t know anything cultural.

“Nothing. Just… didn’t take you for a poetry man.” Sam says, testing the waters.

“Well… I don’t hate it.” Dean looks down and fidgets with his fingers. “Anyway,” he says to get off the subject. “I’m gonna take a shower. This summer heat is the worst and I’ve sweated through my shirt.” He starts to walk off and Sam gives a sly smirk.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more-” Sam laughs when Dean forcefully slams the bathroom door harder than necessary yelling “shut up” as he locks the door. “That’s right. You don’t really care for Shakespeare!” Sam can hear the shower start up as Dean ignores him. He waits until he knows Dean is in the shower before calling out to him again.

“Come live with me and be my love, And we will all the pleasures prove!” Sam shouts through the door or impulse. He hears wet feet slip on ceramic and a hard landing followed by “SON OF A BITCH!” And he can’t stop himself from laughing hysterically.

**Author's Note:**

> I am trash. Feel free to follow me on [Tumblr](http://little-spn-obsessed.tumblr.com/)!


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